


She's Got That Look

by Shaddyr



Series: Stories of a (not quite average) Life [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, SGA Secret Santa 2014, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:32:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3088139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaddyr/pseuds/Shaddyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney might try to come off as the grumpy curmudgeon, but he never could say no to that look</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's Got That Look

**Author's Note:**

  * For [out_there](https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/gifts).



> Many thanks for Outsideth3box and Selenic76 for beta duties - they are both amazing and wonderful and deserve heaps of chocolate. And Naked Rodneys.

Madison was contemplating her wine when a voice cut across her reverie.

“A penny for them?”

She looked up to find Uncle John gazing at her across the living room, a fond look on his face. She smiled back at him.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you and Uncle Rodney about,” she admitted. She shifted slightly, settling in more comfortably on the couch where she sat next to her fiancé, Darren. His arm tightened around her slightly, giving her a quick squeeze before relaxing again.

Rodney let out a snort. “I knew you had an ulterior motive for inviting yourself over for dinner tonight,” he said, motioning at them with his wineglass to emphasize the fact. A moment later, he stared into his glass. “How is this empty already?”

John chuckled as he rose from where he sat beside Rodney to retrieve the wine from the table. “I can fix that,” he said as he refilled Rodney’s glass. He looked over her and Darren. “More?”

“Please,” Darren said, holding out his glass for a refill even as Madison declined. John filled the proffered glass, then topped up his own before settling back on the couch beside Rodney.

“So,” he prompted. “What’s on your mind?” John asked, before taking a sip.

Madison glanced up to meet Darren’s curious gaze. “Don’t be mad,” she whispered.

He frowned. “Maddie? What are you up to?” he asked, but she just grabbed his hand and turned back to her uncles.

“I understand that this is a crazy request. I’m asking you to pull strings for me, for preferential treatment, nepotism of the worst sort. I feel rather guilty about it, and I know mom would be absolutely horrified, so if the answer is no, I’m begging you, PLEASE don’t tell her I asked.” She took a deep breath. “But, even with all that, I’m asking anyway, because…” she looked back up at Darren and saw the dawning understanding his eyes.

“Oh, Mads!” he breathed, and she raised a hand to cup his cheek.

“I’m asking because Darren never will, and he’s only mentioned it in passing a couple times, but I know he wants it more than anything, and it’s _our wedding_ and I want it to be perfect, and I swear to God, I’ll never ask you for anything again as long as I live-”

“Whoa, Maddie, whoa!” John interrupted. “Take a breath!”

“And for God’s sake, get to the point!” Rodney complained. “WHAT are even you even talking about?”

It was Darren who responded, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s asking if you can arrange for us to be married on Atlantis.”

John looked at Rodney and then back over at Madison and Darren who appeared to be oblivious to the world around them. Rodney blinked several times, then finished off his wine.

“I swear, I'm going to get a toothache if I have to watch them make goo goo eyes at each other all night,” he muttered, then held his glass out for another refill. “I am also far too sober for this conversation.”

John let out a chuckle. “I’ll go get another bottle.”

 

****

 

Rodney sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. “How did I let myself get talked into this?” he moaned.

John stuck his head around the door of the bathroom and pointed at him with his toothbrush. “Nobody talked you into it,” he mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste. “You offered,” he continued before sticking the toothbrush back in his mouth and scrubbing vigorously.

“Okay, fine,” Rodney conceded, “So, maybe I did offer, but you were sitting right there! Why didn't you stop me?” Rodney let himself flop backwards onto the bed. “You didn't say anything to prevent this tragedy, and therefore you are equally responsible.”

The sound of John gargling was the only reply. Rodney let out a sigh. “I am going to completely screw this up and Madison will hate me.”

John walked out of the bathroom and stopped beside the bed, arms crossed, and stared down and Rodney. “I am only responsible for asking the SGC if they can hold the wedding on Atlantis. I didn't make any promises about the outcome. You’re the one who said they could have their engagement party here when Maddie started talking about how much she loved our house and what a fantastic venue it would be.”

"She was giving me that look!” Rodney said, plaintively. “You know, the one with the eyes! What could I do?"

John cocked an eyebrow at him. "Get sucked into hosting a party, apparently. Look, Rodney, just relax. Madison won’t hate you, because you won’t screw it up. And she’d still love you even if you did.”

“Well, that’s a resounding vote of confidence,” Rodney said as he rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow. “I am an astrophysicist,” he said, drawing the word out for emphasis. “What the hell do I know about planning an engagement party?”

John rolled his eyes and walked over to the dresser. “Call a caterer, order some food,” he said as he unbuttoned his shirt. “God knows we have enough wine in the cellar. We can move a few speakers outside and turn the deck into a dance floor. If you’re really daring, book a DJ. We could even set up a mini bar.”

Rodney watched with appreciation as John pushed down his jeans and boxers before tossing them into the hamper. “Sounds to me like you should be the one-”

John whirled and shook a finger at him. “Uh-uh-uh! I've already got my part. You dug your own hole there, buddy.” He turned back to the dresser and pulled a clean pair of boxers from the top drawer. “You can lie in it.”

“I hate it when you mix your metaphors,” Rodney grumbled. John just snorted out a laugh and sat on the side of the bed and bent over to put on his boxers. Rodney tucked himself up against John’s back before he had a chance to pull them up. “Hi,” Rodney murmured into the skin at the back of John’s neck.

“Hi,” John replied, letting out a little gasp as Rodney’s arm slid around him, warm fingers wrapping around his cock.

“So tell me,” Rodney asked as he trailed his other hand up John’s chest to toy with a nipple, “why on earth are you putting on fresh boxers?”

“I have no idea,” John groaned, letting them drop to the floor. Rodney moved with him as he sat up, and John relaxed against him, turning his head so Rodney could lean forward and kiss him.

The angle was awkward, but kissing like this was hot, with John squirming back against him, Rodney’s cock pressed up against the small of John’s back while his knees bracketed John’s hips. John’s hands flailed for a moment before finding purchase on Rodney’s thighs, grasping tightly as he shook and moaned under Rodney's caress.

After years together, Rodney knew how bring John to orgasm with a few swift strokes or how to keep him on edge for hours. Tonight he played, building up then backing off, until John was lost in the feeling, a litany of curses pouring from his mouth as he thrust into Rodney’s not-quite-tight-enough grasp.

“Fuck, Rodney!” he whimpered, head tossing back and forth, fingers digging in so hard Rodney knew he’d have bruises tomorrow. “Oh, god, just let me come already!”

Rodney tightened his grip, hand slick with precome, and slid it down then back up to rub over the crown only to repeat the whole thing again. John went rigid, caught on the cusp until Rodney nipped the side of his neck and that was it. He shuddered, cock pulsing in Rodney's grasp, come splattering his chest and thighs as orgasm washed over him. He went limp, collapsing back against Rodney's chest.

As nice as it was to have John plastered up against him, Rodney's knees were starting to complain and his cock was demanding some attention as well. He tried to ease John to one side but John suddenly twisted around to face him, knocking him off balance.

"C'mon, scootch up a bit," John said as he helped Rodney straighten his legs out and lay back against the pillows. He settled between them with a smirk on his face as he looked down at Rodney's cock. "Need some help with this?" he asked casually, running a finger up the shaft.

"Oh, god, don't tease!" Rodney begged, and before he could say another word, John lowered his mouth, surrounding Rodney with moist wet heat. He was already so wound up that it didn't take long at all. John brought one hand up to gently fondle his balls and Rodney was gone, cock pulsing into John's mouth, and everything was made even better as John swallowed repeatedly, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of him. He felt completely boneless and disconnected as John crawled up the bed to settle in beside him.

As Rodney was drifting off, he heard John whisper into the skin at the side of his neck, "Don't forget to call a caterer tomorrow."

 

****

 

Rodney had almost 5 weeks to prepare for Maddie’s engagement party. He decided that John was right; all he really needed to do was get a caterer and a DJ. They had plenty of wine and he could pick up a few cases of beer (good microbrew not that big brewery swill) and they would be set.

The day after Madison and Darren came over for dinner, they had a breakthrough in the lab. Rodney worked feverishly for a week straight, coming home at midnight or 1am and leaving again by 6am.

“Don’t forget to call a caterer for Maddie’s party,” John whispered in his ear as he went to bed each night. He made a mental note to make the call first thing in the morning, but every day, once he got into the lab, the excitement of discovery crowded out all other thoughts.

The week after that, he dithered about the menu (should it be a sit down meal? Just appetizers?) and the music (should they get a DJ? Would a live band be too much?) and looked at lots of online menus and party planning websites. He even called a few places to ask lots of questions, but he didn't actually book anything.

About three weeks before the party, there was an emergency with the power systems on Atlantis and he went out to troubleshoot. It took six days to figure out what was causing the power drain and four more to reroute all the subsystems so they could shut down the problem areas without disrupting the entire city and actually start on the repairs. He went home three days after that and slept for 24 hours straight. John woke him up the next morning with a cup of coffee.

“Mmmm, you are a god among men,” he murmured sleepily as struggled upright and then took the mug. After several long sips, he stared up a John, confused. “Why are you wearing your dress blues?”

John just chuckled and leaned in to drop a kiss on his forehead. “I have to go to the mountain today,” he said as he turned to grab his watch from the valet on the dresser. “Mitchell said the SGC was about to give the OK for Maddie’s wedding, but some gasbag from the IOA wants to come and discuss the potential political implications. They want me there to answer any questions.”

Rodney narrowed his eyes. “Tell me it’s not Thurman.”

“It’s not Thurman.”

Rodney scowled. “You’re lying! It is Thurman, that sanctimonious, bean-counting weasel! I don’t want you anywhere near that prick!” He started to roll out of bed, but John put out a hand to stop him.

“Rodney,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument, “It’s really sweet that you want to defend me, but I’m pretty sure I can handle that asshat all by myself. Besides, if you show up, all the marines are going to start teasing me again about how I need to bring my boyfriend in to protect me, and that’s just not the kind of impression a General in the United States Air Force wants to make, understand?”

Rodney opened his mouth to argue, but John cut him off. “Not only that, I think you have something very important that you need to take care of before this weekend.”

Rodney’s eyes wide with dawning horror. “Oh my god! The engagement party! That’s in… how long?” He looked up at John, desperation on his features.

“It's on Saturday,” John said cheerfully, patting Rodney on the shoulder. “That gives you five days. The SGC is aware that you’re on leave for the rest of the week, so they won’t be bothering you. Have fun!”

 

****

 

Rodney McKay was a brilliant man, a certified genius. He could save his teammates, his city and his planet from certain doom and destruction. He could bend, even break the laws of physics. He could not, however, find a single caterer in the city that was willing to cater a private party for fifty people on less than a week’s notice.

“Well, fine then!” he snarled in disgust and he slapped his phone down on the table. “I’ll do it myself. It’s can’t be that hard!”

 

****

 

Standing in the freezer section at Safeway, Rodney glared at the plethora of appetizers displayed on the shelves before him. There was certainly no lack of variety, but he was coming to the unhappy realization that just about everything was made with meat. On the rare times he and John had someone over, they either ordered in or Rodney picked up some chicken wings and meatballs. His hippy dippy sister had managed to raise Maddie to be a vegetarian, and he had no idea where to begin.

He read the side of a box proclaiming to be vegetarian egg rolls and made a face before tossing it back in the freezer. If he tried to pull this off without help, Maddie was going to hate him for sure. He pulled out his phone and hit the second number on the speed dial. Several seconds later, Jeannie answered.

“Hello, Mer.”

“Jeannie.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Jeannie spoke again. “As much as I like to sit on the phone and not talk, is there a point to this call?”

He sighed. “Ok, first of all, I just want to say, this is not entirely my fault! I’ve been off planet for the last three weeks-”

“More like two weeks from what John said,” she interrupted.

“That traitor,” he groused. “Whatever. The point is, I need your help, and I'm actually asking for it, even though I know you'll never let me forget it until the end of time. I couldn't book a caterer in time – you have to help me! This is for Madison, and it's not just that I don't want her to hate me, I really want her to be happy, so it has to be perfect!”

"Calm down, Mer," she said with a chuckle. “I was planning to come up tomorrow anyway.” He breathed a sigh of relief as she continued. “I wasn’t going to take the chance you might let Madison down.”

“Hey!” he objected, stung. “It’s not my fault I got called away-”

“I know,” she agreed, "I'm not saying it was." He was somewhat mollified by that. “I want it to be perfect too, you know – she's my baby girl after all. But seriously, Mer - what in the world possessed you to offer to host an engagement party for her in the first place?”

“I don’t know!” he moaned, leaning his head against the freezer case, staring at the boxes of chicken bites and jalapeno poppers that were sitting there mocking him. “It just… seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“And John didn’t try to stop you?”

“That’s what I said! I told him that it was his fault for letting this happen, but he refuses to take responsibility."

“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

“Absolutely,” Rodney nodded. “The next time Maddie says she has something she wants to ask me and John, I need to run far away.”

Jeannie laughed. “Or you could just say no.”

"How?" Rodney whined. "She gets this look – kind of like YOU when you were little and begging for a bite of my chocolate bar or to read my comics, actually-"

"You never seemed to have any problem saying no back then," Jeannie said dryly.

"Oh, please,” Rodney scoffed. “You were an annoying little nuisance who never stopped harassing me. Maddie's… cute!"

"I'm sorry, what was that? You want me to leave you to twist in the wind with no help and totally crash and burn?"

"Shut up,” he said with a sigh. “You have to help me. When will you be here?"

"Bright and early," she said in a no nonsense tone. "Be prepared to shop and cook for the next three days straight. And you can inform John that he's going to be drafted into kitchen prep, so barring any planetary disasters or alien invasions, he'd better make himself available."

 

****

 

Jeannie was a dictator in the kitchen.

"You need to cut them smaller. Here, like this," she'd said, taking the chef's knife away from John to show him how to cut the vegetables. "They call it matchstick because, literally, that's about the size you're cutting it to," she explained, easily slicing the carrots into perfect, thin strips.

"Mer, keep stirring," she scolded when she found him watching them. He turned back to the pot and resumed the steady whisking as Jeannie walked back over to the cutting board on the counter beside the stove. She peered over at what he was doing. "That looks good," she said with a nod. "Cover it and put it in the oven. It'll need about 45 minutes, but set the timer for 15 because it needs to be stirred."

He did as she directed while she started rolling a rice mixture she'd made earlier in leaves from a jar. Rodney looked over her shoulder after he'd set the pot in the oven. "What are those?"

"Dolmades," she replied, expertly wrapping them into neat little packages and nestling them into the waiting pan. "And if you have nothing better to do than gawk, you can go and get the chick peas out of the pantry and put them over by the food processor. Grab the garlic, olive oil and tahini while you’re at it." She stopped for a moment, then looked back at him. "Do you guys have cumin?"

He looked at her askance. "How the hell should I know?"

"Yes," said John from where he was working at the table. "We bought cumin a few months ago when we made pulled pork."

Rodney stared at him. "How do you even remember these things?"

Jeannie got his attention by flicking him with a dish towel. "If you can't walk and talk, zip it," she said, the pointed at the pantry. "Chick peas, now. I want them drained and in the food processor before the buzzer rings and you need to stir the polenta."

"Slave driver," Rodney muttered as he wandered off to fetch the cans.

John laughed. "I wonder how many more discoveries we would have made on Atlantis if you'd been there to ride herd on Rodney and Radek."

She shook her head as she tucked another dolmade in beside the others. "Some of the screaming matches we got into when we worked together, back before our dad died, were legendary." She gave him a wry grin. "If we'd had to work together in close proximity for extended periods of time on Atlantis, we might have killed each other."

He grinned back at her. "But the fireworks would have been spectacular."

 

****

 

Saturday morning arrived, clear and warm, with the promise of sunny skies all day long. Four days of hectic preparation had resulted in trays and trays of hor d'oeuvres and canapes, all of which had been carefully stored in the fridge or freezer.

Rodney had always considered himself a reasonably talented cook when he could be bothered to apply himself to the task, but he found himself somewhat humbled by the sheer magnitude of the task and how easily his sister managed to organize everything to get it accomplished in such a short time. He was also stunned at how things that were vegetarian could still be so tasty.

A couple hours before the guests were supposed to arrive, Jeannie summarily evicted both of them from the kitchen.

"Go get ready," she said, smiling and happy. "Everything's prepared, and you need to stop fussing. Go get gussied up, harass the DJ you hired about the playlist, I don't care. Just stay out of the kitchen."

Before Rodney had a chance to reply, Jeannie engulfed him in an unexpected hug. He startled for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her in turn.

"You never fail to surprise me, Mer," she said, face pressed up against him. "You try so hard to pretend you're just a grumpy old curmudgeon, and then you do something generous like this because you're really a softie inside and you love Maddie as much as I do."

"Lies and slander," he said, his voice gruff. "I am a curmudgeon, don’t ruin my reputation. The little brat tricked me into this, is all."

She gave him a last squeeze before releasing him and then turned to repeat the process with John. He gently patted her on the back. He'd adjusted over the years to Jeannie's kamikaze style of hugs and managed to keep from stiffening up. After a few more moments, she let him go and stepped back, and surreptitiously brushed away the tears threatening at the corner of her eye.

“Ok. Now beat it. I have to make sure everything is perfect before I go and get ready, and if you go back in the kitchen and mess anything up, I’ll break your fingers.”

“And *there’s* the sister I know and love,” Rodney said as John laughed and guided him out of the room.

 

****

 

Rodney leaned against the deck rail with a beer in his hand and watched Maddie and Darren dancing. They were surrounded by friends, laughing and happy and looking like the very picture of young love. He rolled his eyes and took a long pull from his beer. He was glad that Maddie had found someone who made her happy, but as much as he loved her, he was about at his limit of human contact. He was more than ready for the night to be over and all the strangers to be out of his house.

"Penny for them?"

He turned his head to glance over at John who'd come to stand beside him.

"If I recall correctly, that offer is what got us into this mess in the first place."

John chuckled and settled back against the rail, close enough that their arms were pressing against each other. "No, that was you. I distinctly remember you promising her the best engagement party ever.”

"I couldn't help myself,” Rodney he protested, leaning into John. “She just gives me this look, with those eyes, and I just can’t say no to her.” He paused for a second, his voice growing softer, fonder. “And really, she doesn't ask for much, so when she does… I want to say yes if I can.”

"So, what you’re saying is, Maddie has you wrapped around her finger?"

Rodney glared at him and John stuck out his tongue. After a moment, they both started snickering. John nudged Rodney with his elbow, then lifted his beer in a toast. "To Maddie, irresistible looks, and surviving the crazy."

"I'll drink to that," Rodney said fervently as he clinked his bottle against John's.

"What say we ditch this party and wander upstairs?" John said, raising an eyebrow while a knowing smile pulled up one corner of his mouth.

Rodney replied with a leer that spoke volumes. "I never could say no to that look.”


End file.
